


HAPPY

by kethni



Category: Midnight Caller
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: She smiled. ‘It hasn’t been nearly long enough for you to imagine you can claim to be stupid and have me believe you.’‘It’s been a while,’ he said wryly.She nodded. ‘I know.’
Relationships: Jack Killian/Devon King
Comments: 10
Kudos: 2





	1. Hello

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to crazymaryt for all your help

The wind coming across from the bay was warm and carried a tang of salt. It was a day on the cusp between spring and fall. Even at this time of the year there was always the threat of rain in the air. Jack adjusted his jacket. Despite the warm breeze he felt a prickle of coldness at his neck, in the gap between his collar and his hair. He still wore it collar length although it hadn’t been the fashion for years. Jack didn’t much worry about fashion and he hadn’t even when he’d been a young man.

Sophie had always teased him about getting it cut in a more flattering style but honestly, he thought she’d have been disappointed if he had. Disappointed at losing the chance to tease him and probably disappointed that the hair cut definitely didn’t help.

Jack had learned a _long_ time ago that short hair definitely wasn’t his style.

He stepped around a knot of tourists on the sidewalk and handed a few dollars to a homeless guy huddled in the mouth of an alleyway. Despite everything, there seemed to be more homeless every year. Jack shook his head.

He slipped into a little restaurant, narrowing his eyes automatically as the light level dropped from the weak sunshine outside to the soft illumination inside. There were little lamps here and there, spilling light into the booths. He found a booth at the back of the restaurant and slid along the little bench. The cushion was cracked, and the table was worn. Jack didn’t mind that. There was something comforting about it. He knew that nostalgia wasn’t the healthiest. He tried not to get too stuck in it. That was how you ended up as one of those old guys ranting about how young people didn’t understand music or whatever. Staying current was how you kept from turning into a fossil.

It didn’t come naturally though. He still had the last phone that Sophie had convinced him buy. The case was worn at the corners and beginning to lose the colour along the hinges. The screen was still in good condition though. He’d never been one to drop the damn thing in the toilet or smash it on the sidewalk. But he knew that he’d have to change it soon. Smart phones. They were the big thing. Smart phones and dumb people.

The server came to take his order. Jack ordered without needing to check his menu. That probably wasn’t a great sign. He was probably getting stuck in his habits again.

He grumbled under his breath as he pulled out his notepad and a pen. His schedule was always pretty last minute but that was part of the fun of doing a daily show. Sure, there were times when he had something particular that he wanted to dig into, and that took a few days or longer to work out. That wasn’t his usual bag though. Jack liked being nimble and freewheeling as much as he could.

He made himself a note to look for a new restaurant for lunch, at least a couple times a week. No need to go wild while he was trying not to get into the kind of rut, he’d never be able to pull himself out of.

His cell buzzed. People were always yelling at him for having it on mute. He had enough ringing telephones at work, thanks, he didn’t want to deal with them on his off hours. He flipped up the phone and scowled at the text. JJ was depressingly quick to jump on new technology, but he only ever contacted Jack when he wanted something, normally money. There had been a whole series of big scores and big plans. None of them had ever resulted in anything more than a big headache.

The door to the restaurant jangled as it open. Jack waved a hand in welcome as Deacon ambled across to him.

‘How does the day find the editor of _The Despatch_?’ Jack asked.

‘It finds him grumpy that one of his so-called friends did a show about his newspaper,’ Deacon said, sitting down.

Jack shrugged. ‘I asked you for comment. You didn’t give me one.’

‘You could’ve waited,’ Deacon protested.

The server brought over Jack’s food.

‘I waited two days, Deac, I had to figure that you weren’t going to answer.’ Jack attacked his noodles with gusto. ‘I had people bugging me about it.’

Deacon gave his order to the server. ‘I’m your friend, man.’

Jack sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I have to be careful, at least for a while. I can’t end up in that mess again.’

‘Yeah,’ Deacon said. ‘I know you got burned.’ He leaned back. ‘But I liked you better when you were less professional.’

Jack rolled his eyes. ‘You wrote _plenty_ of stories about me. Most of them terrible.’

‘And I _always_ asked you to comment on them!’ Deacon pointed his finger. ‘You just never did.’

‘You never waited two days to see if I changed my mind,’ Jack said dryly.

Deacon snorted. ‘When have you _ever_ changed your mind about anything?’

Jack thought about it. ‘I used to think that having all those lawyers in the valley was the worst thing that could happen there.’

Deacon snorted. ‘Funny.’

The server brought Deacon’s lunch.

‘Do you want to give me a comment now?’ Jack asked.

‘Nope.’

‘Okay, don’t come whining to me then.’

Deacon played with his spoon. ‘Times are changing, Jack. One by one we’re being bought out by the same three or four businessmen. Those people don’t care about the news except when it comes to stopping us printing things against them or their interests.’

Jack shrugged. ‘I hear you. That’s why I ended up going alone.’

Deacon raised his eyebrows. ‘You call being carried by a dozen providers going alone?’

‘I make what I want to make how I want to make it,’ Jack said. ‘They decide to carry it or not. I don’t negotiate content or editorial control.’

‘That must be nice,’ Deacon said tartly. ‘A newspaper isn’t exactly something I can produce from my basement.’

‘You have a _basement_ , in this property market? What’re you, Rockefeller?’

‘You’re the one broadcasting from his den or game room or whatever the hell you call it!’

‘It’s my _studio_ and is where I do my _work_ ,’ Jack said.

‘Right,’ Deacon agreed. ‘You have that luxury, and I don’t.’

Jack blew out his cheeks. ‘You thought of getting into some other medium?’

The other man pulled a face. ‘What, like television? I’m pretty sure my face doesn’t fit.’

‘Billy’s doing okay,’ Jack said.

‘He says that because it was always his dream and he doesn’t want to admit he’s just one producer among about twenty. It’s hard to go from being one of the only fish in the pond to being one of a shoal in a damn lake.’ 

‘You’re projecting,’ Jack said.

‘And you’re talking like your shrink again.’

Jack tilted his head. ‘Are you _shaming_ me for taking care of my psychological health?’

Deacon rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, man, after I was one of the people who forced you to get some help in the first place.’

Jack pulled a face. ‘Did you come all the way here to complain about my show last night?’

‘That’s what friends are for,’ Deacon said. ‘You still coming on Friday?’

Jack had to think for a minute. ‘I didn’t realise I was invited. Am I welcome?’

‘Oh, quit whining,’ Deacon said. ‘Since when do I have to invite you. You just turn up whenever the hell you feel like it so you might as well do it when we’re expecting you.’

‘There’s an offer.’

Deacon pointed a finger. ‘And bring food. Some side dish with lots of carbs.’

Jack glanced towards the darkened windows. He couldn’t see much out of them but that wasn’t the point. ‘Do I have to make it myself?’

‘Hell, no,’ Deacon said. ‘I don’t want to die.’

***

Jack tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked along the street. It was just slightly too warm for gloves, not that he’d ever mastered the art of wearing them anyway.

Something about the conversation with Deacon had niggled at him a little bit. Jack tried to look to the future but now everywhere he looked he was reminded of how things used to be. The shadows of buildings and people past overlaid the here and now like ghostly afterimages. Almost as if they would disappear if he rubbed his eyes.

Someone was following him. It took him a moment to realise that was what was causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Jack resisted the urge to turn around and look. There were too many people around for it to be a would-be mugger. Not that the general public would necessarily jump in or anything, but the sheer numbers of people meant there was simply no damn room.

Jack glanced in the store windows as he forced himself not to speed up. It was a typical day in San Francisco and the sidewalk was crowded with locals in light jackets and tourists in heavier clothing. He was attracting hardly attention from anyone behind him. Sure, people walking _towards_ him noticed him, years of having his face splashed on adverts and in newspapers made that inevitable, but that was different. Fans generally wanted to be seen. They sometimes took a little while to get up the nerve to approach him, he didn’t exactly have the most welcoming reputation, but they didn’t go out of their way to avoid his notice. Even the ones who stood giggling and too starstruck to actually talk to him weren’t given to hiding.

It was a kid. He looked to be in his early teens so unlikely to be a listener. Jack had never particularly appealed to the younger crowd. His topics weren’t normally things that resonated with them and any teenager awake between midnight and three am probably had other things on their mind than the radio.

Jack took another look at the kid in a shop window. White or maybe Latino, colours were muted and uncertain in the reflection, light hair, a thin t-shirt, light jeans, and the kind of trainers that were stupidly expensive. He wasn’t dressed for the weather at all but that just proved that he wasn’t any kind of street kid. They knew all about wearing layers, even if some of those layers ended up being sheets of newspaper bundled under torn t-shirts and unravelling sweaters.

Jack ducked into an alleyway, jogged around, and turned back onto the street. The kid was ahead of him now, blocking foot traffic as he tried to work out where Jack had gone.

Jack moved a little closer. The kid was maybe a head shorter than he was. He might still grow a little at that age, but Jack didn’t think he’d grow more than a hand span. His haircut looked expensive and time-consuming. Jack had never got a grip on expensive grooming, especially once he went completely grey, but he had a good idea what it looked like.

There was a cell phone in his back pocket. Jesus, the amount the things cost, and he had it right there were any passing –

Yup, there it went as someone “bumped” into the kid and grabbed the cell.

Well, Jack supposed it was one way to make his acquaintance.

***

The pickpocket went down like a bag of wet cement. When Jack pinned him down, he felt the shoulder bones jolting out and the ribs standing proud like a damn toast rack.

‘Take out the cell that you just grabbed and anything else you’ve stolen today,’ Jack ordered. ‘Put them on the sidewalk.’

The thief moaned but complied. ‘You’re gonna break my back!’

‘I’m barely touching you,’ Jack retorted. ‘Do it or I’m gonna march you right up to the stationhouse and you spend the next forty-eight hours drying out the bad way before you finally get kicked back out onto the street.’

The thief grunted and dumped three cell phones and four wallets onto the sidewalk.

Jack twisted around to look at the kid, who was staring at them wide-eyed. ‘Is one of those yours?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ the kid said. He had an accent that Jack didn’t recognise.

‘Well, pick it up.’ Jack got to his feet, pulling the thief with him. ‘I’m going to let you go and you’re gonna keep walking. If you _don’t_ then we’re going to have a problem.’

He shoved the thief away, to the clear disappointment of the gathering crowd, and made shooing motions with his hands.

The thief swore under his breath and shoved through the crowd. Jack picked up the other phones and wallets.

‘Let’s go make someone’s bad day marginally better,’ Jack said to the kid.

The boy looked at him in confusion.

‘I need to hand these into the police,’ Jack said. ‘You’re gonna come with me to prove that I’ve done it and also because you’ve been following me for twenty blocks and you obviously have something that you want to say to me.’

***

The kid seemed uneasy as Jack set off to the Stationhouse, but he didn’t try to bolt or even slip away. He seemed surprised that the Stationhouse was right around the corner. Not real familiar with the city then. That wasn’t too surprising. There was no shortage of incomers to San Francisco. Even Jack, who was frequently referred to as the voice of the city, hadn’t been born there.

They jogged up the steps and straight over to the desk. The kid was looking around the place like it the gates of hell. He jumped when the desk sergeant addressed him.

‘Huh?’

‘What’s your name?’ the sergeant repeated.

‘Why?’

‘Because that guy stole your cell,’ Jack said. ‘You’re not in trouble.’

The kid shoved his hands in his pockets and looked from Jack to the sergeant and back again. ‘Um, Jay. Jay Clark.’

‘What kind of accent is that?’ the sergeant asked. ‘Where are you from?’

‘I’m on vacation,’ the kid said. ‘My gran mother lives here.’

‘Come on, Bill, can’t you see he’s freaking out being in here?’ Jack said.

Bill pulled a face. ‘You brought him in here.’

Jack looked at Jay. ‘You see how much hassle I get for trying to follow the rules.’

Jay smiled thinly. He wasn’t a bad looking kid. He’d probably be a little taller if he didn’t keep hunching his shoulders.

The kid’s cell began ringing. He actually took a step back as the screen lit up.

‘See,’ Jack said. ‘I knew I wasn’t the only person who hates people being able to call me wherever I was.’

‘It says “Mom.” Better answer it,’ Bill said.

Jay reddened and reached for the cell. He declined the call as he slid it into his pocket. ‘I’ll talk to her later,’ he mumbled.

Jack gave a backwards whistle. ‘Uh-oh. That never ends well.’

‘RIP, junior,’ Bill laughed, moving away.

Jay paled. ‘What? Why’d you call me that?’

Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s just a turn of phrase,’ he said. ‘But, if you’ve got a problem with your parents maybe that’s something you should talk to someone about.’

‘Can you do it somewhere else?’ Bill prompted. ‘You’re blocking the desk.’

Jack jerked his thumb at Bill as he addressed Jay. ‘He’s all heart.’

Jay didn’t answer, but he followed Jack out onto the street. Jack glanced at his watch.

‘So, you got something to say to me or…’

Jay chewed his cheek. ‘Thanks for stopping that guy stealing my cell,’ he muttered.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Not what I meant, but okay.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘Look, kid, you were following me for a _while_. I don’t think you were planning to go for _my_ wallet, but either you have something to say to me or you were up to no good. Which is it?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jay said, looking away.

‘I don’t know what you know about me,’ Jack said. ‘But patience has never been one of my virtues. I know that sounds abrupt, but I don’t know what to tell you. I just ate but if you want to get lunch then I’ll drink coffee while you do.’

Jay looked at him from under his lashes. ‘Okay.’

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. ‘Great. You’re paying. Those sneakers cost about as much as the average car.’

Jay laughed slightly. ‘My mom didn’t want to buy them. I started saving up for them, but my dad bought them.’

Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Bet your mom loved that.’

Jay shrugged. ‘I think that’s why he did it.’

‘Ah,’ Jack said. ‘Divorced?’

‘Yeah.’

***

Jay ate like he was starving. That seemed to be pretty standard for teenage boys from the little interaction Jack had with them. His cell rang a couple more times until he muted it. Jack had been raised riding around for hours without his mom having any idea where he was or what he was doing. People made out that was because kids had been magically safer back then. It wasn’t true. Jack of all people knew that violent crime had been gradually declining for decades. What was different was the media and the paranoia that the media induced.

‘If you sent her a message she might stop calling,’ Jack suggested.

Jay stabbed a sausage with his fork. ‘I’m not talking to her.’

Jack shrugged. ‘So, message her with that. Then she’ll know that you’re not dead in a ditch.’

‘Why are old people always talking about people being in ditches,’ Jay asked. ‘I’ve never even seen a ditch.’

‘No ditches where you’re from?’ Jack asked. ‘Where is that?’

Jay hesitated. ‘I was born in San Francisco.’

‘Congratulations,’ Jack said dryly. ‘You’ve got five minutes to ask me or tell me whatever it is that you want before I finish my coffee and go.’

‘Tahiti,’ Jay say eventually. ‘I come to visit my grandmother most summers.’

It took Jack a few minutes. He tilted his head to the side. ‘Is “Jay” short for something?’

The boy shrugged. ‘Jack.’

Jack blew out his cheeks. ‘Jack Clark?’ he checked.

‘Yes, Sir,’ Jay said, a little sheepishly.

Jack leaned back in his chair. ‘You’re Devon’s son?’

Jay shrugged again.

Jack leaned a little closer and looked at him more closely. ‘I can see it. You’ve got her eyes.’

Jay chewed his lip. ‘I look like my dad, you think?’

Jack tapped his coffee cup with his thumb. ‘Honestly, I didn’t know him very well. I think I only met him twice.’

Jay set his shoulders. ‘You sure?’

‘Am I sure I only met him twice?’ Jack looked at him blankly. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

Jay set his jaw. ‘You sure you know who he is?’

Jack stared at him for several long seconds. ‘Wow,’ he said eventually. ‘That uh… You’re damn lucky that she’s not here right now.’

Jay gripped his fork. ‘You’re here now. I’m asking you.’

‘I can hear you asking but I’m not entirely sure _what_ you’re asking.’

Jay looked away. ‘I heard my mom and dad arguing and he said… He said he wasn’t even sure that I was his son.’

‘Hey,’ Jack said. ‘Look at me. People in arguments sometimes say stuff that they don’t mean and isn’t true. Especially when they’re in a break-up. Divorces drive people _nuts_.’

Jay folded his arms. ‘I’m named for you.’

Jack licked his lips. ‘Your mom was my friend. A really great friend. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with her and your dad. If your dad genuinely meant what he said, then he’s wrong. Devon says that he’s your dad. She wouldn’t lie about that.’

Jay looked down at his hands. ‘If you were such good friends then why don’t you talk anymore? Why haven’t you ever come to visit or anything?’

‘People grow apart,’ Jack admitted. ‘She had a whole new life with you and your dad in Tahiti. That’s just how things are sometimes.’

Jay’s cell began to vibrate, and “mom” flashed on the screen.

‘She doesn’t know where you are, does she?’ Jack asked.

Jay shook his head. He made no effort to pick up the cell.

Jack sighed and picked up the cell. Jay set his jaw as Jack answered the cell.

‘Hi, Devon. It’s Jack Killian.’


	2. Again

The faint scent of lemon disinfectant hung in the house, ambushing anyone who came in through the front door. Jack opened the windows but wasn’t convinced that it had helped. It was frustrating. He was sure that it gave the impression that he never normally cleaned the place. Okay so _he_ normally wasn’t the one cleaning the place, but it was cleaned. That was the important point. He hadn’t had to shovel out piles of crap to make the place liveable. He’d just polished things up a little bit. Spritzed around some air freshener. Nothing special. It was just polite to make sure that the place looked his best when he had a guest. Guests.

‘You don’t have a garden?’ Jay asked, looking out of the kitchen window. He made it sound like a moral failing.

‘Nope,’ Jack said, turning on the coffeemaker. ‘It wasn’t a priority.’

‘Why?’ Jay asked.

Jack turned around and shrugged. ‘I don’t have kids and I’m not a gardener. Space in San Francisco is at a premium. Buildings are expensive. I’m not going to pay double or triple to get a place with a garden I don’t need.’

‘My grandmother’s place is bigger than this,’ Jay said. ‘And she has a garden.’

‘That’s your mom’s mom?’ Jack asked. ‘I hate to break it to you, kid, but your grandmother is rich. I’m not.’

Jay opened his mouth to argue but was cut short by the doorbell. Jack checked his watch.

‘Relax, it’s too early for your mom,’ Jack said, heading towards the corridor. ‘You got fun yet to come.’

He was pretty sure who it was from the silhouette on the stained glass and the heavy hand on the doorbell.

‘Are you trying to get me a noise complaint citation?’ Jack demanded as he opened the door.

The other man scratched the back of his head. ‘You’ve been complained about for pretty much everything else. Why not noise?’

Jack rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let him into the house. ‘You’re in a good mood.’

‘It’s already been a hell of a long day and it’s only two in the afternoon.’

Jack threw a look back as he walked towards the kitchen. ‘You’re still getting too into the whole film noir thing.’

‘The great Jack Killian is calling someone else out on how they talk?’

Jay was poking in the cupboards when they walked into the kitchen. He jumped back guiltily, and colour flushed his cheeks.

‘Who the hell is this?’

Jack waved a hand. ‘Carl this is Jay. Jay this is Carl.’

Carl looked Jay up and down. ‘He looks too well dressed for a street boy.’

Jay’s mouth dropped open.

Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘Carl, Jay is Devon’s son,’ he said in a tight voice.

Carl raised his eyebrows. ‘Devon… King?’ He took another look at Jay. ‘Damn. I feel ninety years old.’

‘You know my mom?’ Jay asked.

Carl leaned against the countertop. ‘Sure, not at well as Jack or Billy but I knew her. Anyone who has anything to do with Jack ends up getting attacked or nearly murdered or kidnapped.’

‘None of those things were anything to do with me!’ Jack protested. ‘I’m not responsible for random stalkers or angry ex-employees.’

‘All that happened to my mom?’ Jay asked.

Jack scowled at Carl. ‘She’s gonna be here soon. She’s gonna love hearing you just told him that.’

Carl shifted uncomfortably. ‘He’s not a little kid.’

‘I’m fourteen,’ Jay said helpfully.

The look that passed between Carl and Jack suggested that fourteen might as well have been four when it came to being “a little kid.”

Jack jumped as his cell began to ring. ‘I hate that damn thing,’ he muttered.

‘You’re living in the wrong century,’ Carl said, grinning.

Jack answered the cell and exchanged a couple of sentences with the caller before ending the call. ‘Your mom is going to be here in maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.’

Jay hunched his shoulders. ‘She still mad at me?’

Jack rubbed his head. ‘She’s glad that you’re okay,’ he said carefully. ‘You gave her a scare.’

Carl straightened up. ‘I don’t think I want to be here getting between a mother bear and her cub.’

Jack made some coffee. ‘Why _are_ you here?’

‘I had some stuff to ran past you,’ Carl said, vaguely waving a folder he was holding. ‘There’s this murder and it’s gone cold.’

Jay pushed himself up onto the countertop. ‘I thought you were a radio guy?’

Jack nodded. ‘Yeah. Not that it stops anyone from trying to drag me into all kinds of craziness.’

‘Your whole life is craziness,’ Carl retorted.

Jay nodded in agreement. ‘Seems like it.’

***

Devon was wearing her hair shoulder length and wavy. It was longer than Jack had seen her wear it before. She had always been beautiful but the fourteen years that had past had softened and warmed her.

‘Oh, God, your hair!’ she said, staring at him. ‘What happened to your hair?’

From the kitchen, Jack heard Carl laughing.

‘Fourteen years happened to my hair,’ Jack said. ‘It’s not like I went bald.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re completely grey but it’s still so thick. That doesn’t make any sense.’

Jack rolled his eyes and stepped aside. ‘Maybe we can discuss my hair later.’

‘Oh, we are definitely going to discuss it later,’ she said. She looked around the hallways as she followed him towards the kitchen. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Little over five years,’ Jack said. ‘I was lucky to get in just before the property prices went bananas.’

Devon smoothed her hair down with her hand. ‘How did you afford something this big?’

Jack shrugged. ‘I was dating this banker a few years before and she said I need to invest in stocks.’

‘In what, Google?’ Devon laughed.

Jack shrugged.

She stared at him. ‘Holy s–’

‘Jay is in there,’ Jack interrupted.

Her mouth snapped shut and her face turned tense. ‘Right. Well, if he hasn’t heard me curse before he’s certainly going to now.’

In the kitchen, Jay was holding a bottle of Coke so tightly that his fingers were blanched.

Carl shifted position. ‘Hey, Devon,’ he said meekly.

‘Oh, hello Carl,’ she said shortly. ‘Do you mind? I prefer not to have any police officers around when I murder people.’

‘He’s not… Never mind,’ Jack said. ‘Come on, Carl, we can uh… we can talk in the living room.’

Carl grabbed his mug of coffee and followed Jack.

***

Jack walked to the kitchen when he heard running feet pound up the stairs and across the upper floor. He tapped on the kitchen door and popped his head around.

‘Hello again,’ he said.

Devon smiled slightly. Her eyes were puffy and reddened. ‘Hello again,’ she said. ‘He’s run upstairs for some reason.’

Jack tucked his hands in his pockets. ‘That’s the guest bedroom. He slept their last night.’

‘Thank you for not sending him to Juvenile Hall,’ she said dryly.

Jack shrugged. ‘And have to explain that to you? I’d rather face down a bear.’

She sighed. ‘He’s having a lot of trouble with the divorce.’

‘How are you doing with it?’

‘I’m not a teenage boy,’ she said. ‘And I was younger when my mother left.’

Jack nodded. ‘I was seven when my old man left.’

Devon leaned back against the wall. ‘Did you run away?’

‘Kinda,’ Jack admitted. ‘I didn’t get far, and it wasn’t for very long. Unless you count joining the police.’

She was playing with a little carved wooden fork on the windowsill. ‘I didn’t think of you as being that young when you joined the police.’

‘Eighteen,’ he said. ‘Mom wanted me to go to college.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

He chuckled. ‘Me? Like I’d have the first idea what I was doing.’

She smiled. ‘It hasn’t been nearly long enough for you to imagine you can claim to be stupid and have me believe you.’

‘It’s been a while,’ he said wryly.

She nodded. ‘I know.’

There was a creak from the room upstairs.

‘I hope he’s not climbing out the window,’ Jack said. ‘It’d be a hell of a drop.’

Devon shook her head. ‘He spent two nights on his own and he’s had enough.’ She shrugged when Jack looked at her. ‘Come on, Jack, he was following you. He had to know that the first thing you’d do would be to call me.’

Jack scratched his cheek. ‘He knows about me?’

‘He’s heard some stories,’ she said. ‘ _Extremely_ sanitised stories!’

Jack laughed. ‘I think Carl might’ve busted you on some of the less salubrious events.’

She sighed. ‘The only reason he hasn’t already found all kinds of things already is the typical selfishness of teenagers.’

‘How’s that?’

‘Let me guess, you’re not exactly internet savvy?’ she asked. ‘Jay certainly is. You’d be amazed at the kind of things you can find on there. All those newspaper articles that used to annoy you so much are all archived.’

Jack shuddered. ‘I’m glad _I_ don’t have a teenager ready to read about my chequered history.’

Devon tilted her head. ‘Do you have anyone waiting to do it?’

‘Do I have kids?’ Jack asked. ‘Who in their right mind would have kids with me?’


	3. Possibilities

The flight from LA hadn’t been that long, but it had followed three sleepless nights, and panicked, near hysterical days. She had barely been able to sit still on the flight. It had been the same when she had flown from Tahiti to LA, hoping the Jay had gone to Richard’s new home.

She couldn’t remember anything that had happened since she had spoken to Jack on the phone, and yet somehow the time had seemed to drag to nightmarish levels. She didn’t remember the trip in the cab or running up the path to Jack’s house. He’d said that Jay was safe. That he was fine. She knew he wouldn’t lie to her. She knew it but it didn’t help. It didn’t change how she felt, not until Jack opened the door.

His hair was steel grey. His face was a little thinner. His cheekbones and jaw a little more defined. But he was Jack. She saw it in his smile when he saw her. For the first time in days she felt something other than fear.

***

‘Are you kidding me?’ Devon demanded. ‘ _This_ is your studio?’

‘I think it looks cool,’ Jay said.

It was a small room, sure, but sound proofed and cosy in its own way. Jack’s equipment sat on a couple of tables right in front of the large window. Devon could see that the glass was thickened and wondered if that might be subtly obscuring his vision. On the left side of the room he had his snacks and beverages. On the right side of the room he had a small shelf of legal books. There were two guest chairs with well worn pillows. That was good. Jack needed people around him, people to bounce off, or just to hold him to account. It had worried her learning that he was working alone.

Jack fought a smile. ‘What?’

She waved her hand at the equipment on the desks. ‘You could fit this in the back of a car.’

‘And have,’ Jack said. ‘What’s your point?’

‘You broadcast to the _whole_ of the US, and I don’t know where else, on what looks like a children’s radio set!’

Jack laughed now. ‘I broadcast to a _satellite_ , Devon, and it bounces the signal wherever it needs to go. It’s not 1990 anymore! I can’t believe I have to be the person to tell you this.’

She sank down into his chair. She couldn’t believe it either. There had been a time when he had been sniffy about _F.M_ radio. ‘How does anyone make any money doing this?’

‘Subscriptions mainly,’ he said. ‘Come on, there’s way more changes in the city than how I happen to organise my work area.’

She sighed. ‘I dread to think how gentrification has affected the city.’

‘I like the city,’ Jay said.

‘You would,’ she said. He’d always lit up when he visited family in the city. Richard hated it. As if it were some sort of personal rebuke. She looked at Jack. ‘What time do you record?’

He shrugged. ‘Midnight to three, same as always.’

‘Can’t you make your own hours?’ she asked. ‘Why would you choose to carry on with those hours?’

Jack’s smile was self-deprecating. ‘I’ve never been good with change.’

‘I hate change,’ Jay said with far more intent then she would have expected.

They looked at him.

‘What?’ he asked. ‘I can hate stuff.’

‘And frequently do,’ Devon said.

‘It’s just a little depressing to hear a kid your age say it,’ Jack said. ‘I guess this is the millennial angst I keep hearing about.’

Jay ran his fingers through hair, ruffling it. ‘I wasn’t born at the millennium.’

Devon nodded. ‘I don’t understand that name either.’

Jack shrugged. ‘I never liked being thrown in with the baby boomers.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Devon groaned.

***

Devon tried to argue that they’d stay in a hotel, but she didn’t try particularly hard and she knew that Jack would insist on them staying at his place. Jay reluctantly picked up one of her bags and Jack gabbed the others, carrying them upstairs.

‘Thank you,’ she said, following them both up the stairs.

She saw Jay’s ears redden as he blushed. He didn’t look around. Boys. They were impossible to have an open conversation with.

Jack hadn’t told her why Jay had decided to follow him halfway across the city. She was one hundred percent sure that Jack would have asked. Jack was hardly known for his discretion and if he wasn’t saying anything about it then it meant she didn’t want to hear it.

‘The futon pulls out,’ Jack said, as he put her bags by the bed. ‘So, Jay doesn’t have to sleep in the yard.’

‘Maybe I want to,’ Jay said.

Devon put her hand on her hip. ‘We are _not_ okay, young man. We are certainly not at the point where we can joke about it.’

‘Sorry, Mom,’ he said meekly. ‘Is dad mad at me too?’

She sighed. ‘It’s not about being mad at you Jay.’

‘But you are,’ he said.

Devon smiled unwillingly. ‘Well, obviously you’re pretty angry at your dad an I. I’d rather you talk to us both about that rather than run away.’

He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Okay, Mom.’

She ruffled his hair. ‘Why don’t your call your dad? I know he’s keen to talk to you.’

He kicked his toes into the carpet and looked at Jack. ‘He’s gonna yell at me.’

‘Means he cares,’ Jack said. ‘My dad once let me nearly get killed by the Mafia because he didn’t want to pay them money that he owed.’

Devon blinked. ‘What? JJ did that?’

Jack looked at her. ‘Are you seriously surprised?’

She shook her head. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘But I thought I’d be polite.’

***

It had been a long time since she’d been alone with Jack. There had been a time when that would have been completely normal and completely natural.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. She had always felt _safe_ with Jack but while his friendship was always absolute, it was rarely _easy_. His expectations had been higher than were immediately obvious. It wasn’t even that he had romantic feelings for her; he had never pushed his feelings for her, and he had never thought that he was entitled to reciprocation. What he had once felt entitled to, was her presence in his life, as a friend, and as a boss. When that entitlement exploded she had been angry and confused, but distance and time had helped her see their relationship as too close and too intense. It had been inevitable that things would come to a head one way or another.

‘You’re looking great,’ Jack said, getting a beer out of the fridge. ‘Did I say that?’

Devon smiled. ‘I think I was too busy asking what happened with your hair.’

‘Ah,’ Jack said. ‘Becca Nicholson did a two-page spread on how I was losing my sex appeal.’

Devon covered her mouth as she laughed. ‘I’m sure that you _loved_ that.’

He shrugged. ‘I liked it better than most of her articles. Gotta say that I didn’t much care for all the hullabaloo it caused.’

She tilted her head. ‘Your listeners didn’t agree? Did you get some more panties in the mail?’

Jack sipped his beer. ‘ _So_ many panties. And bras. And like those teddy things. Everyone found it hilarious. Of course, Sophie wanted a discussion about the sexualisation of the modern media.’

Devon caught her breath, surprised to be unsure how she felt. ‘And who is Sophie?’

Jack smiled. ‘Believe it or not, my therapist.’

‘Your _what_?’


	4. Probabilities

It took longer than she would have liked to relocate. When she thought how quickly and how impulsively she had moved to Tahiti in the first place…

But that wasn’t true. She only remembered it that way because in the rush of romance and excitement it felt like everything had happened at once. She had let herself mythologise it all as being some kind of modern fairy tale when of course it wasn’t. She had chosen to forget the months without Richard. Months when she thought that she would be raising her baby without him. The truth was that they had been apart longer than they were together. They told the story of their wedding as a cute anecdote instead of it being a near run choice between marriage and never seeing each other again. It had been so passionate and so… operatic.

It hadn’t taken long for the music to stop.

She’d almost forgotten what it had sounded like. What the flutter of interest and excitement felt like.

‘How’s the move going?’ Jack asked, over lunch.

‘Nearly finalised,’ she said. ‘Richard actually had the temerity to suggest that we move to LA so he could be near Jay. Can you imagine? After _he_ dragged us to Tahiti in the first place, then he chose to move to LA, he suggests that we move there instead of San Francisco.’

Jack grinned and took a bite of his sandwich. ‘Good old, Dick.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘He wasn’t a particular fan of yours, either.’

‘I’m shocked,’ Jack said. ‘I’d been so charming too. Who wouldn’t love to hear their partner ranted at on public radio by someone who claimed to be their partner’s friend?’

Devon leaned back in her chair. ‘Wow, that’s a more balanced view of it than I expected.’

‘Well, I’ve plenty of time to process my feelings about the situation,’ he said, putting on a self-mocking tone that she knew well enough to ignore. ‘Really explore my feelings of shame and embarrassment.’

‘That doesn’t sound very healthy,’ she said mildly.

He grinned. ‘Nobody has accused me of that.’

Devon took a sip of her water. ‘Are you still seeing your therapist?’

Jack crossed his legs. ‘Not regularly. She’s more of a short, sharp, shock kind of deal. I haven’t seen her in… nearly five years.’

‘What happened five years ago?’ she asked.

Jack took a bit of food. ‘Nothing that hadn’t been a long time coming. I’d had some issues in the past, as you may recall. Things came to a point. I needed some meds to get me back on track and some therapy to… learn some techniques for dealing with things.’

Devon reached out and put her hand over his. ‘What caused it?’

He tapped the back of her hand with his thumb. ‘That’s not how it works. I mean… sometimes that’s how it works. It’s like physical stuff. Some physical issues people are just born with. Sometimes you get hurt in a big accident. But sometimes it just happens. Maybe you had little injuries you didn’t register. Maybe you weren’t taking care of yourself the way you should. Either way, you’re just doing your thing and boom, your back is out.’

She realised that she still had her hand over his. ‘You seem well now.’

He gave a mouth shrug. ‘I have my moments,’ he said. ‘But I take my meds. I use the strategies and techniques. It’s been five years and I’ve been doing pretty well.’

Devon pulled back her hand, feeling the warmth still lingering on her skin. ‘I’m glad.’

Jack sat back. ‘Jeez, some friend I am. I asked how you were and ended up talking about myself.’

She smiled. ‘I think I asked.’

He waved his hand. ‘Tell me your stuff. My lips are sealed.’

Devon clasped her hands together. ‘Let’s see, what’s happened since I saw you all of… ooh a week ago. Jay is settling into his school. I’ve arranged for all of our things to be shipped. I’m looking at some business opportunities.’

‘Not all work I hope,’ he said.

She blew out her cheeks. ‘I _have_ been out to lunch with a friend. That’s quite fun. Although not as many cocktails as I would like.’

Jack nodded. ‘Maybe lunch isn’t the ideal time for cocktails.’

‘Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps a night out might be a better option.’ Devon noticed a couple of women in the corner of the room looking in their direction.

‘Even without your face on billboards you still get noticed,’ she remarked.

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Maybe they’re looking at you.’

‘They’re not looking at me,’ she said definitely.

‘I can’t say I miss all the publicity stuff you used to have me doing,’ he remarked.

Devon rolled her eyes. ‘There was hardly anything. A few billboards.’

‘A _few_ billboards?’ he echoed. ‘They were everywhere. You even had my face on top of cabs.’

She laughed. ‘It was so worth it for the look on your face.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘Making me do the bachelor auction.’

Devon winced. ‘Poor Danni, I think she was the one who came out the worst of that. Did you ever see again?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think it would’ve worked out in the long term.’

‘You’re not seriously going to sit there and say that a woman having more money than you is an absolute no-no.’ She said it more sharply than she intended but she didn’t think that he noticed.

‘Nothing to do with money,’ he said easily. ‘The first time I met her, she came on so strong and the first time that we went out she was, you know, real aggressive. But as soon as we actually started dating… I don’t know. She was clingy. She started worrying all the time about what I thought. She was like a different person.’

‘Oh,’ Devon said quietly. ‘I see. I remember Susan making fun of her once for being a pushover with men, but I never saw it. I didn’t believe it. It seemed so out of character.’

‘Being in a relationship can put a microscope on facets of personality that might never otherwise be exposed to the sunlight,’ Jack said. ‘A bad relationship can really mutate and exaggerate existing issues.’

‘You sound a little bitter,’ Devon said quietly. ‘I’m the one who just got divorced.’

Jack thought about it. ‘I don’t think I’m bitter. A little cynical maybe. I’ve seen too many couples I thought were completely solid break up.’

‘That doesn’t mean the relationship wasn’t worthwhile,’ Devon protested. ‘We’re sold the idea that any relationship that doesn’t last forever is a failure. Maybe some relationships just have a natural expiration date. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.’

‘That’s not very romantic,’ Jack said mildly.

‘I’m a divorced single mom a long way from thirty,’ she said. ‘Look where romance got me.’

‘You regret getting married?’

She sighed. ‘I don’t know. I certainly don’t regret the divorce.’

Jack chuckled. ‘You’ll bounce back. Look at you. I think you look better now than you did before.’

She vaguely waved her hands. ‘The last time you saw me I had early nineties hair. And clothes. And makeup. I can’t bring myself to even look at pictures from then.’

‘Maybe Becca Nicholson can do a two-page spread on how much better dressed and made up you are now.’

Devon laughed and slapped his arm. ‘Don’t even joke about that.’

‘Are you ready to go?’ he asked, pushing away his plate.

‘Places to go and people to see? A hot date?’ she teased.

His mouth curved into a self-mocking sneer. ‘Not this side of the millennium.’

‘Why?’

Jack pulled out his wallet as the server came over. ‘I’m not celibate or anything. I just realised that I’m a lot for any woman to have to deal with. Even if I’m upfront about things, people assume I’m exaggerating, or I have low self-esteem somehow.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s disheartening for everyone involved.’

Devon waited for him to pay and then took his arm as they strolled out of the restaurant. ‘You need to date a woman who has a realistic image of who you are.’

‘A woman who has a realistic image of who I am wouldn’t want anything to do with me,’ he said lightly.

She smiled. ‘You might be surprised.’


	5. Yes

Jay didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the weather in San Francisco. It seemed like it was never warm and a lot of the time there was either fog, rain, or both at the same time. At least in LA there was sunshine. That reminded him a lot of Tahiti.

But he wasn’t going to say that his mom. Holy crap he _couldn’t_ say that to his mom. She’d kill him! Or worse, make him sit down for A Conversation About Things.

Ugh!

He was _freezing_. It was way too cold to be trying to shoot hoops and he didn’t know how the other kids were managing it. He told his buddies that he was going to run home and grab a jacket. They made fun of him a bit, but he barely even noticed. That was just how they talked. His dad didn’t like it. His mom waved it off as “toxic teen masculinity” and his dad _hated_ that.

He ran along the alleyways and climbed over a couple of fences. Someone shouted at him as turned a corner but going all the way around would take _ages_. He hadn’t done any harm. It’s not like he put his foot in anyone’s planter or anything.

He came out in the alleyway just down from their house. Mom was on the doorstep talking to… it looked like Jack from the back. She was messing with her hair and biting her bottom lip. Jack had his hand on the wall and was leaning towards her.

Jay took a few steps back into the alleyway. Jack wasn’t bad for an oldie. He could be a little grumpy now and then but mostly he had a lot of time for Jay. Not in the way that Dad’s girlfriends had time for him. Not in the way where they were trying too hard or making a big show of it to prove something. Jack just talked to him like a person. Jay was pretty sure that Jack didn’t like a lot of people. But he liked Jay’s mom.

Jay shivered a bit in the cold. Maybe he could circle around and get in the house from the back. But then they’d probably hear him. He was pretty sure that Jack had said something one time about having a _gun_. Jay had never seen a real gun. He didn’t want to end up having one waved at him because someone thought he was trying to break in.

Jack reached out to touch his mom’s hand. She smiled in a way Jay didn’t think that he’d seen before. They didn’t kiss. He was kind of expecting that they would. It definitely looked like the kind of conversation that ended with a kiss.

Jack left the doorway and walked down the street. He turned around and gave Jay’s mom a little wave. Waggling his fingers. She stayed in the doorway until Jack turned the corner and then went back into the house.

Jay jogged across the road and let himself in. She was halfway up the stairs and jumped at the sound of the door.

‘Where did you come from?’ she asked.

‘I’m just grabbing my jacket.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘I told you this morning to take it with you.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’

She swiped her hand across the top of his head. ‘Don’t “yeah, yeah” me, Jay.’ She frowned slightly. ‘I didn’t see you outside.’

He knew that he was reddening. He hated it but he never seemed able to make it stop. ‘I came down the alleyway.’

She licked her lips. ‘Did you see me come home?’

Jay shrugged as he grabbed his jacket. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t… uh… I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘Jay,’ she said gently. ‘It’s okay if you saw us. I know I haven’t spoken to you about it but I wanted to see how serious things were.’

Jay hunched his shoulders. ‘I need to get back to the game.’

‘If you really have a problem with me seeing Jack then I think we should talk about it.’

He groaned. ‘I don’t have a _problem_ , mom, it’s just so embarrassing.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘My dating Jack is embarrassing?’

‘No! Talking about it!’ He pulled open the door.

‘Would you like to talk to him about it?’ she suggested.

Jay gave her a hangdog look. ‘This is why I didn’t tell you that I saw you.’

She laughed. ‘Okay, okay. Go and play your game. We can talk about this when you feel ready.’

‘Nope,’ he said, slipping out of the door. ‘Never gonna want that.’

***

Jack was okay. He didn’t come to the house every night or anything. That would’ve been way too much. He took Jay’s mom out most weekends. The first time was _so_ embarrassing. She made this huge big thing about it. She even thought that someone should stay there with Jay while they were out like he was a _kid_. Even when he convinced her that he wasn’t gonna run off just because she was on a date she gave him the numbers for the restaurant and the movie theatre.

Jack laughed at her and she didn’t get mad or upset. She hit him with a pillow, but she was laughing. Jay couldn’t remember her and his dad doing dumb stuff like that. When Jay visited his dad, he never saw him having fun with his girlfriends.

Jay spent a week in LA over the summer vacation. The best part was the weather. His dad kept asking about his mom and about Jack. Jay was bored of hearing about it.

His mom picked him up at the airport. She practically broke his ribs when she hugged him. Ugh. Moms.

In the car he smelled the aftershave that Jack wore.

‘Why doesn’t Jack have a car?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never known him to own a car. Why do you ask?’

Jay looked out of the window. ‘Just wondered.’

‘Did you have a nice time with your dad?’

He shrugged. ‘He bought me a Playstation 2.’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Is this where I’m supposed to try to outspend him?’

Jay laughed. ‘You could just yell at me less than he does.’

She glanced across at him. ‘But I so enjoy yelling at you.’

They smiled at each other.

‘I missed you,’ she said, giving his knee a brief pat.

‘I know.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know? What happened to everything I do and say being embarrassing?’

Jay shrugged. ‘Figured I’d mix things up a bit.’

She turned onto their street. ‘Thank you for keeping life exciting,’ she said dryly.

Jay looked across at her. ‘Doesn’t Jack do that?’

‘That’s the second time you’ve mentioned him,’ she said quietly. ‘Is something on your mind?’

Jay chewed his thumb. ‘Dad mentioned him.’

She blew out her breath. ‘Your dad thought that there was an issue that simply didn’t exist. Jack and I were friends. It wasn’t until you and I moved back to San Francisco that things changed.’ She parked the car and turned towards him. ‘I like Jack. A lot. He still has his issues, but he’s worked on a lot of them. Everyone has some baggage.’

‘Every time I see dad, he has a different girlfriend,’ Jay said.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, sometimes people go through that phase when they’re in their forties and just divorced. I’m sure that in time he’ll…’

‘Quit being a creep?’

She opened and closed her mouth. ‘I would not put it that way and you shouldn’t either. He’s your father and he deserves your respect.’

‘Even though he’s a creep?’

She tapped his nose with her finger. ‘You’re not funny.’

Jay took off his seatbelt. ‘Are you and Jack gonna move in and get married and all that stuff?’

She was quiet for a few seconds. ‘We haven’t been dating very long and we’re going to take things slowly. We haven’t decided on any big decisions yet. When we do, we will discuss them with you.’

‘Okay,’ Jay said.

She licked her lips. ‘If we were going to move in together, at some point, do you think you would be okay with that?’

Jay rolled his eyes. ‘Oh my God, Mom.’

‘That’s not a helpful answer!’

Jay groaned. ‘Yes. Jeez.’ He got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk as she walked around to him. ‘Does he make you happy?’

‘Jack?’ she checked.

Jay nodded.

She walked around to him. ‘He does. Is that okay with you?’

Jay kissed her cheek. ‘Yes.’

The End


End file.
